Braces!
by Immortal Magic Freak
Summary: 'You see, from the ages of thirteen to fourteen and a half, I had to have...braces! I would have been fine with dad looking at these pictures any other time, but not when Derek was round, and not when he asks if Derek wants to look too! Because, of course, Derek would say yes! Why wouldn't he say yes! I was not a happy bunny' What does Derek make of the picture of Stiles at 13?


**Authors Note: HEYO! XD Please tell me what you think, I would love to know XD Please, please review XD **

**ALSO Teen Wolf has stopped playing over here in England :'( so we only go up to season 2 – so the last thing I saw was that Jackson became a werewolf – meaning I don't know anything that's happened since D':**

**Stiles **

In my whole life, never _once _had I said or thought the words 'I hate my dad'. And I would continue that way. But at the moment, he was not my favourite person. Why, you ask? Well, I'll tell you why! Here we are, nice dinner with my dad and – still can't believe it – _boyfriend _Derek Hale – I know, amazing, huh –, when my dad thought it would be fun to look at pictures. But oh, not just any pictures! Oh no! It just so happened to be pictures of me. From when I was younger. From baby me, up until the age of fifteen. Which was not cool! Why, I hear you cry again? Well, the answer is simple! You see, from the ages of thirteen to fourteen and a half, I had to have..._braces_! I would have been fine with dad looking at these pictures any other time, but not when Derek was round, and not when he _asks _if Derek wants to _look too_! Because, of course, Derek would say yes! Why wouldn't he say yes?! I was _not _a happy bunny!

"I still don't see why you have such a problem with them, son." dad said, as he continued to pass pictures to Derek.

"You don't see... How can you not... Oh my God! Just kill me now!" I groaned, hiding my rapidly warming face in my hands. "I mean it. Just...shoot me. Go on, do it. Please. I'm begging you. Or, give me those pictures, and I'll burn them!"

I didn't remove my hands from my face, but I knew they were staring at me. Probably wondering what the hell was wrong with me. Dad should already know _why _though, so it annoyed me that he had no clue! Geez, this was not a good day for me, not at all. And I couldn't get out of it by saying I had homework, since it was the summer holidays! This was not working out very well for me. So, I just sat there and endured the torture of Derek looking at the pictures, while my dad commented on _each and every one_! I glanced at my watch. 6:30pm. Ok, right, so..._wait, what_?! 6:30?! Already?! Hang on... YES! This was the escape I needed. I jumped up, off of the sofa, heading towards the kitchen.

"Stiles?" dad questioned.

"Dinner." I replied simply, hoping he couldn't hear the relieved grin in my tone.

Too bad I wouldn't have the same luck with Derek.

* * *

During dinner, I had to put up with dad telling Derek more about the pictures and other moments from when I was younger. Why? Because Derek bloody well asked, didn't he! Each word out of my dad's mouth made the colour in my face darken and spread further. I knew they noticed, I could tell by the way they were both grinning...but they didn't stop, they just kept going on and on and on and on. Never had I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole more than I did right now.

"...And I will never be able to forget the time when he was thirteen." dad laughed.

"Dad, no!" I groaned, knowing what was coming next, dropping my head into my hands.

"Go on." Derek grinned.

I look up and glared at him, which only made his grin grow. I swear, I wanted to run away right now. Jus run so I didn't have to listen to this.

"Stiles had just gotten his braces on, everything was going fine with them, no problem what so ever." dad chuckled. "But, back then he had a habit of chewing on things. So, one day, about three weeks after getting his braces on, Stiles decided to chew on the pencil he was using to write his Math homework."

Derek glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, while I just stared down at the table willing the floor to open up already.

"Around five minutes had gone by and I was sitting in here, when all of sudden I just here '_what the hell_?!' So, being a concerned parent, I walked back into the living room." dad continued. "As soon as I turned to face the sofa, I just saw the pencil stuck in between his braces. As in, the wire was digging into the middle of the pencil. Plus, the rubber looked like it had been shredded and was stuck in a few of the individual brackets. I couldn't stop laughing."

"It wasn't funny. It bloody killed." I muttered.

"You shouldn't have done it then."

"I don't even know how it happened!"

Oh, was I glad I didn't have those metal bastards any more.

* * *

Dad ended up going to bed early, since he had to get up at five the next morning, so Derek and I were alone downstairs, sitting in the living room again. I hadn't said anything since dinner. I swear it must have been the longest I hadn't spoken – since my mom died. I mean, I wasn't in the best mood to be honest. I hated the pictures, I hated stories of me from when I was younger – especially the ones involving braces –, and my dad knew this. I had told him many times, yet he still brought them up. Sure, this was the first time in two years – the last time being when I was sixteen – that he had brought the metal bastards up, but did he _really_ have to mention them when Derek was around?! If I wanted Derek to know, I would have mentioned it ages ago. In fact, if I wanted anyone else to know, I would have mentioned it to fill any awkward silences. But the fact I haven't mentioned it at all, even when I _needed _to fill the silence, goes to show how much I didn't want anyone to know.

Derek picked up one of the pictures of me with my braces from the side. I looked as geeky as hell. I didn't have a buzz-cut back then, but I had short, curly hair. The bands around the brackets of my braces were black and yellow, just so I had Batman colours... All I needed was glasses with giant frames and I would have the complete package. Thankfully, no one in my family needed glasses. It didn't help that the shirt I was wearing in the picture was Batman based.

"Why do you hate this so much?" Derek asked, turning the picture towards me.

I cringed, turning away from the picture. I hated looking at them. I hated looking at any picture of me that was taken from when I was ten to this present day. Always have. I shrugged, not looking Derek in the eye. Sighing, Derek put the picture into his other hand as he slid closer to me. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me closer into his side. I could help but relax against him; it came naturally, even in the beginning of our relationship.

"Don't lie to me, Stiles." Derek said, softly.

It was still strange hearing Derek speak like that. No venom behind his words, no yelling or anything. It was a nice kind of strange, but I was still trying to get used to it. Even The Pack were still trying to get used to it, since every time I was around, Derek seemed to be easier on them, seemed to be a little gentler. They liked it, they really did, but again it was trying to get used to it. I sighed.

"I just hate it." I murmured, trying to glare a hole in the carpet. "I hate the braces; I hate how I looked... I just hate it all."

"Why?" Derek pushed.

"I don't know. I just do. I mean, _look at it_!"

I scrunched my face up in disgust when Derek raised the picture so he could look at it again. Looking to him, I saw the small smile that was creeping on to his face. My eyes widened, blinking a couple of times to make sure I wasn't seeing things. Derek was _smiling _at the _God awful picture _of me?! The hell?!

"No! No, no! Just... No!" I shook my head, fiercely. "There should be no smiling at the picture! Only smiling when it has been torn to shreds and disposed of properly. Like people shred stuff. Oooo, maybe I could put them all through the shredder! I could just tell dad he misplaced them. I could work. Unless he finds the shredded pieces. That's a weird word shredded. I wonder how they came up with it, or who came up with it. I wonder why Shredded Wheat is called Shredded Wheat. Do they shred the wheat? Do they have a special shredder for the wheat? Do they..."

Suddenly I found something stopping me. That something being Derek and his _lips_. Derek pulled me onto his lap, so I was straddling him, not pulling back in the slightest. When in his lap properly, my arms had slid upwards to wrap around his neck, my right hand fisting his black hair gently, as Derek's hands rested on my hips. His tongue ghosted across my lower lip, making my mouth open slightly as a small moan escaped. I never had control over what I was doing when Derek and I did anything like this, but that was fine by me. Derek's grip on me tightened as his tongue dived into my mouth, not that I was at all surprised. I was slightly surprised, however, when Derek dragged me impossibly closer. My closed eyes – when did I close them? – going wide, my hand in his hair gripping slightly tighter. His tongue brushed against mine as we continued, but all too soon we pulled away, the need to too much to handle. Breathing heavily, Derek rested his forehead against mine. I felt the colour rise to my face. That was one of my favourite ways for Derek to get me to stop talking.

"I like it." Derek whispered, dropping his head from resting against mine to my neck. "You never told me much about your younger teenage years, and you look exactly how I pictured in this photo."

I went to protest, but Derek nipped at my neck gently, a moan slipping from my mouth instead of words. I could feel his smirk against the skin of my neck and shoulder, but I mainly felt his tongue brushing over the bitten skin. I attempted to not let the shiver go down my spine – I failed horribly.

"What I mean is, you're kind of dorky now, so you must have been back then. The colours of the bands on your braces were obvious, same as the t-shirt. The hair wasn't expected, but it suited you back then, I think." Derek explained. "What I'm saying is, I like how you looked back then. Though, I do prefer how you look now."

"Yeah." I mumbled. "But Derek."

"Yeah?"

"I still hate those damn fucking pictures."

Derek just laughed... I couldn't help but join in.

* * *

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